Raven without Time
by amandawrites33
Summary: Natalia Carter is living in the shadow of her adopted mother and cousin, one of S.H.I.E.L.D. most prominent engineers and agent, carrying the truth of who she is on her back. When a ghost lands in town her theory and obsession on the identity of the Winter Solider will make her a target as her life, and that of colleagues is wrecked as they try to save what is left of S.H.I.E.L.D.
1. Chapter 1 : Gravity is not gentle

Chapter 1-

The storm outside seemed to be unsettling most of the people on the jet, a few of the guys were shifting their weight on their legs looking up at the sound of the winds hollowing. The rain pelting the roof of the S.H.I.E.L.D jet would be sent most into a mess of nerves, it calmed me though. I was expecting the storm for the past 4 days ago, it is why I advised moving the mission to this jet; when we engineered this jet, we spent hours making it storm proof.

This baby is indestructible, a category five hurricane would have to try its damn best to knock it off the sky.

Still, unless you were in the months-long process of engineering a jet like this, it is normal to be scared when entering in the middle of a furious storm.

Captain America seemed to be one of the ones handling his nerves best if you looked closely you could see his shoulders tensed up which was letting me know that the storm puts him on the edge. His eyes scanned all his crew on the jet landing on me, it took a second, then they moved to the name on the right side of my jacket.

 _Agent Carter._

His eyes soften briefly, moving up to my own, his own individual storm of emotions in them.

"Don't walk on to the ship with that on, you don't want them to get your name." He advised I nodded, knowing this but instead of belittling his advice, I offered a piece of knowledge of my own.

"Will do Captain. We are at the ends of the storm, the weather around the ship is forecasted to be normal." I informed him, he nodded in return, his eyes told he knew this information though.

"Yeah, well, this does not feel like a normal storm Agent," Rumlow said from behind me, I held in a groan at the sound of his voice. Rumlow is someone I've always found incredibly infuriating. "In fact, maybe we should have someone piloting the jet instead of having it in autopilot."

I raised my eyebrow, "Scared of a little rain?"

"No," Rumlow said sternly, taking a slight step forward. "I'm afraid of the jet falling into the ocean before we even reach our destination."

Everyone around us shuffled around uncomfortable by our bickering. From the side of my vision, I saw Natasha Romanoff, move her elbow to hit Captain America in his midsection, making him look at her.

Natasha was the only person who I felt comfortable with ranting about how much I wanted to punch Rumlow's smug face. Although I mostly rant to her about him because she would give me tips on how to punch him, which in turn helped me overall in situations on the field.

"I was a vital aspect of the process of engineering and building this jet. Our objective was to make it capable of taking any weather that crossed its path. This is my project Rumlow, my jet, and I promise you _Thor himself would have to try his damn best to knock it off the sky_." I broke eye contact with Rumlow to look over at the Captain raising an eyebrow. "And last time I checked the mighty God isn't joining us tonight."

Natasha smirked as I ended my sentence, a few snickers could be heard around. Rumlow rolled his eyes, looking away, but I didn't give him too long.

"Besides, we have a pilot on board," I informed him, looking to the right. In the corner sat, John Tellme, one of our finest pilot, his job is to bring the jet around to pick us up. "If he ever feels that he needs to take control of the jet, _he will_."

"Alright." Captain America's voice sounded around the jet, stopping Rumlow from answering back. My head snapped to Captain America who was giving me a warning look, although his lips were fighting a smirk. "I'm going to start the briefing."

The mission seemed like a standard rescue mission, my main objective would be to get to the hostages as fast as possible. Captain mentioned this was best suited to my _abilities_ , that was his way of saying once I had surveyed the vessel in person I could teleport my way there.

"Use any _extra force_ necessary if you need to get into the room where the hostages are in." Captain America told me, not breaking eye contact. I nodded.

After the Captain's briefing, we all start putting on our parachute's. I struggle a bit with securing my front buckle, my hands shaking a bit. I take a breath, staring at my hands. Please, don't do this now, I can't do this right now.

"When was the last time you took your medicine?" Nat's voice says, my head moves in the direction it comes from. She is looking down at me concerned. I bit my lip.

"I didn't take one today… I forgot it at home and I've been prepping the jet for this mission-"I start explaining, Nat steps closer to me.

"You know how you get without it Natalia-"She starts saying, but I interrupt her, slightly annoyed at having this conversation around the other agents.

"Yes, I do." I whisper angrily, "I go into withdrawal because I got hooked on the pills that help my body act like a normal human body, Nat."

"You _are_ normal." She whispers, "They help your powers not overpower you… And yeah, maybe you do enjoy the small high they give you a bit too much."

I scoff, that's underestimated, some days I find myself counting the hours to when I get my next dosage, my next relief. I try focusing my breathing, but it doesn't stall my hands from shaking. Curling my fingers inward and digging my nails into my palms, I make a fist.

 _Come on, not now, please._ My gaze stays on my hands until they stop shaking, but I know it's only momentary.

"You okay?" Nat ask looking down at my arms, my eyes snap to hers. Time is ticking until I go into a full withdrawal.

"Let's just do this quickly," I tell her, securing my gun.

Captain had jumped off the plane without a parachute, I guess one of the pros of being a super soldier is flight. The guys that were left on the jet looked at the spot he had jumped from in shock. Nat had a smirk on her lips, the type that would only show up when she was proud of her fellow agents.

Rumlow peaked over the edge of the runway, looking down. Let's hope he doesn't fall off, the paperwork would be a pain. His head turned and caught a glimpse of me.

"What about you Carter? Are you going to teleport yourself down there?" He mocked, a few of the agents on jet chuckled.

I debated explaining to him that it doesn't work like that, I need sense information of the area I'm teleporting to. Is it cold? Warm? Is it well lit? What are the scents that surround it? Is the ground rough? Is it sand? How does it look like? Is it inside or outside?

Rumlow seems to think that I can think of Paris and I'll find myself under the Elfie Tower. I need usually more than one sense detail, I know what the Eiffel Tower looks like, but how is the grass lawns that surround it? Are they well-groomed or are they overgrowing?

I'm sure Rumlow knows all of this, he has probably read my file, since he seems to have a fixation with me. The reason for his joke was to remind me that I am a freak of nature, unlike my cousin Sharon, who he dated unsuccessfully for a few months last summer.

I shrug, "Why would I do that? I'm enjoying my time up here with you too much."

Everyone chuckles at that.

We are already lining up on the runway, ready to drop down. Rumlow is hidden from my sight, but I hear him grunt as he pushes off. One by one we start to go down until it is my turn, I'm second to last. The wind whips my hair around fiercely as I look down at the drop-off. Below there are only dark clouds, beyond that, there is more darkness, in the middle of the darkness there is a tiny vessel.

From this height, it looks like a toy boat, that is my target. I feel a tap on my shoulder, it's Nat letting me know I'm stalling too much. I feel my mind go through all the possibilities that I'll hit the water instead, which from this height means death.

No! No, I was trained for this, I've done this before. I nod my head, then, before I can second guess myself, I push off.

The fall is always the worst part. I always bit my lip as I feel my body hurtle towards the boat, gravity is not a gentle force let me tell you. My hand grips the string that will open my parachute.

The only upside of gravity hurtling me down to the ground, is that it doesn't take long until I must pull the string, around 30 seconds and I'm violently dragged upwards. I groan leaves my body the intensity of the drag taking me by surprise.

Everything slows down once the parachute is open, I can see the spot on the boat that I will be landing on in 10 seconds. Captain America is already fighting one of the Pirates, throwing his shield to hit the pirate in the ribs, not noticing the one behind him holding a gun aimed at his head.

"No!" I yelp, right as the sound leaves my body, a gun is fired.

Rumlow's. He shoots the pirate before it shoots Cap.

My feet touch the ground. I need to concentrate.

My hands go to my parachute buckle taking it off, dropping the parachute. I need to pick up sense data. Around me, everyone is already fighting their way to the Captains side, I see a blur rushing towards me on my left. A pirate.

I dodge down, avoiding his swing. I heard his yell, as he legs moves upward, before it catches my midsection, I take a step backward, avoiding it.

I look at the pirate, he is blonde look young, younger than me. He steps forward. He is also not going to give up.

My left arm comes across my face blocking his punch, then I push his arm to the side, leaving him open. Right hook. It connects I feel his nose crack underneath my fist. He didn't see it coming, he looks at me stunned. I throw a left following my right, he stumbles backward.

I need to get him on the ground, he's stunned enough that if I drop him he won't bounce back.

My right leg, moves forward, swiftly going under his feet, knocking him down. His fall is violent, his head hits the floor. Again, gravity is not a kind force.

Looking down at him, I swallow down the feeling of guilt. I need to collect sense data.

The ground it is… cold, sturdy, slippery.

The wind is strong, blowing to the east.

It is nighttime, the outside of the boat is lit dimly. The area where Captain and everyone is well lit.

I have enough, I concentrate on Captain and Natasha's back. I feel a rush of air, in a blink, my body is thrown onto a body. My eyes register the red hair, oh no.

I bend down to dodge Natasha's elbow that she has thrown at me, her head moves with her arm, an instinctive move. Her eyes widen when she sees me crouched down, realizing I missed the hit by a split second.

I smile weakly at her, "I made it."

"You're getting to be quite quick kid." She replies, smirk playing on her lips. Warmness spreads across my cheek at her compliment. It's not like I had been spending hours training while everyone was off taking a break.

Captain's eyes moved over me, checking to see if I was alright. I nodded at him, "I'm okay sir, just took a bit of stumble on the landing."

"A stumble? It's not like we've trained you to prevent those." Rumlow interjected.

Captain looked at him slightly annoyed, but always the professional decided to ignore Rumlow's comment, "Agent Carter, you can partner up with Natasha."

That's unfair. Everyone else had a clear objective in the mission, an obvious reason why they were here. What is my objective? To be Natasha's sidekick. If they needed someone to provide them a jet, I didn't have to be brought here, I could have prepared it back at headquarters. If they needed me to be their plane engineer, I could have done that and stayed on the plane.

I was told to come down onto the ship, I am also an agent. But as always, I'm not as good as the rest of them, I'm reduced to the backup. My instinct is to object, but this is the not the time.

I nod looking to Natasha who without a second thought, nodded at Steve and started walking forward. Her stride being much quicker than mine, I jog a few steps to walk beside her.

"I need to secure the engine room," Nat whispers to me, she hops over a railing, skipping a whole flight of stairs. _Why does she do this? Why can't she just jog down like a reasonable person?_

My feet move quickly down the stairs catching up once more, Natasha was walking faster.

She's running away from me, "I take it you didn't want a partner on this mission?"

"No, I didn't." She sighs, finally looking over her shoulder at me. "Go to the control room, find a way in, lock the door after you and wait for me to come."

I paused halfway down a long hallway, looking at her back. She thinks I am not good enough to help her out, to keep up with her. Even after our joint training sessions, showing her my abilities, desperately trying to prove that I am more that Peggy Carter's adopted daughter. None of it is enough to convince anyone that I am capable, that there is no favoritism in my ranking, it is the opposite.

Natasha back blurs for a moment, my hand coming out to hold the wall to my right. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. I should have packed an extra pill in my mission bag, why didn't I?

Natasha doesn't notice and keeps walking, I gulp. I must follow Captain's orders.

"Nat that's not on any of the briefings we got, the control room is not a priority. We are here to rescue hostages, I can handle that-" I reason through a strained throat.

"I don't doubt that Agent Pyro." Nat deadpans finally turning around, her eyes meet mine sternly. "But _my_ mission is to get to the control room and save any intel they have on S.H.I.E.L.D."

A secret mission, the rescue operation isn't the real mission.

"Are the hostages just a distraction then?" My voice comes off in a shriek.

Nat freezes, her eyes examining mine. I know what she is doing, she is telling herself to ignore all the questions she has, to just follow the orders she was given- after all, isn't that our job to follow orders?

"I'll knock 4 times on the door when I get there," Nat says, turning around, leaving me feeling conflicted. Do I follow Nat's orders or the Captains? My gut said neither to remember how the jet felt and teleport up there.

But I have nothing to do up there and something to do down here. They had given Natasha a different mission for a reason and now I was caught up in it. Something about this felt _wrong_.

I close my eyes and take a breath, willing the shaking of my hands to still, but without my medicine, it won't still completely. I open my eyes, turn around, and head to the control room.

Finding a way into the control room turned out to be surprisingly easy, the door had a number key in it, that if I unhooked the lid off and rebooted it, I could change the access code. This way I could go in and none of the pirates could somehow gain entrance.

Once inside it was all about waiting for Nat, this is not my mission and I had no place in this room. I felt like an intruder in ever since of the word, I had intruded on this mission and broken my way into this room. Both of which I did doing what I was told, I was in this situation all because of other people's choices, not my own.

But that's the way life had always been for me.

 _Tack._

My eyes move to the door. Is that a knock or just noise from within the room?

 _Tack._

My body moves towards the door, hand on my gun, moving it in front of me.

 _Tack._

The sound is coming from the door, doesn't sound like a knock, but maybe the door is too thick?

 _Tack._

Only one way to find out, I pull the door open. My eyes meet another gun pointed in my direction, in the hands of a certain redhead.

"How did you do it?" She asked, moving the gun down.

"Um, I rebooted the keypad to have a different access code," I explained withdrawing my weapon as well.

Nat's eyes showed admiration for a second before it left, back to business. She rushed into the door. "Shut the door."

And once again, I did as I was told.

Annoyed by the turn of events of this operation and how my involved has been, I slumped myself down on a chair behind Nat. She typed away, pulling a flash drive out of her boot, injecting it into the computer. Neither of us really paid attention to the noises coming from outside. The door was too thick for the noises to reach us fully and I think Nat was too concentrated on saving the intel.

Of course, as the ruckus got louder, my eyebrow rose in interest. Whoever it was giving one hell of a fight out there-

"Arrrgh!" The holler came from behind that door mixing with the impact of two bodies hitting the door. Two men came crashing into the room, taking the door down with them.

Well, I could have gotten in that way.

The shield on the back of the man's back register a moment too late, as Captain America's eyes meet mine. They immediately showed confusion.

Well, we are screwed.

I opened my mouth to explain but Natasha beat me to it, "Well, this is awkward."

Captain's moved over to her, then back to me.

…. I am so fired.

"We needed you to help Rumlow." Captain said at me, not hiding his anger. To be fair, I probably would have ignored the call to help Rumlow even if I wasn't busy doing the side work that I was caught up in.

"I am only here because I am following orders, you said to partner up with Nat." I glanced over at Nat who was typing away, "She said to gain access to the control room, so she can save intel. I am only following orders."

His eyes soften, understanding right away that this might have been a bad call of his from the start. He nodded at me, before getting up and moving to question Nat.

* * *

The rest of the operation and the ride back home was awkward, to say the least. Captain and Nat would go back to normal, they always do, but I understood that he felt betrayed. He still doesn't quite understand how this world works, how S.H.I.E.L.D works now.

To be honest, I found myself wondering the same thing every day I put on my S.H.I.E.L.D uniform.

S.H.I.E.L.D gave everyone that had been on the operation a day off to rest before returning to work. I've spent most of it in bed, watching One Tree Hill, a guilty pleasure that let my mind go numb. I thank Lucas Scott and his inability to stick to any decision in giving me an escape from my own inability to be productive today.

I had taken my medicine when I had woken up, but because I went a day without it, I had to take a pill from the bottle that holds a stronger dosage. Safe to say, I've been on this bad immobilized and feeling comfortably at ease. This is the pills effect they are supposed to stop my body from its spasm it gets, if I stress myself out, my body starts shaking, I've been told it is something about the atoms shaking preparing in they have to teleport me elsewhere. A fight of flight instinct.

S.H.I.E.L.D can't have an agent holding a gun or an engineering fixing a jet shaking, so they've found a solution. There is another solution, honing my power and practicing it, taking control of it. But I've spent so much of my life trying to fit in, I rather just use my powers when needed, otherwise, pretend they don't exist.

After Lucas had broken Brooke's heart, again, I decided to go to the kitchen to make myself some milk with cereal.

I look around the kitchen, the sink looks like a horror scene, plates almost reaching the cabinets on top of it. I should probably do those, but my body was still feeling a bit sluggish from the medicine. It's funny how I can, in theory, think of a place and be there in seconds and yet I stay in the same place. Is that Captain feels sometimes? The moment he asks S.H.I.E.L.D to help him retire, they would make it possible, only bothering him to save the world when some monster from another galaxy appears to destroy us.

And yet, he feels the same call for duty, the one he can't ignore.

Every time I start thinking about Captain it leads me to everyone from his past, the ones that started this all. Did they have any idea what it would all become? How many people would it impact? Would they agree with the way S.H.I.E.L.D operates now? Am I doing the right thing by following orders?

I could pick up my phone and make the call to the person with answers, but that person might not be able to answer all of them.

Sadly, Lucas Scott and his gang will not hold the answer.

A sigh escapes me as I run a hand through my hair, I know what I should do to stop the questions that are dancing around in my mind. I need to go to the place that where the start is in, dressed up and hiding my answers. This place also brings to the surface the question that I have that no one ever wants to listen to.

I grab my keys on the counter, shaking them out to untangle them a bit, grab a sweatshirt to slip over my tank and a baseball cap to hide under. Opening the GPS app on my phone in case I get lost, running there would wake me up, my fingers move quickly as I write:

Smithsonian Institution.

* * *

The chilly air inside the museum sent a shiver through me. Now drenched in sweat from my run the thin fabric of my tank top sticking to my back. I slowly untie the sweatshirt I had tied around my waist, slipping it over my head. The thick red material saving me from the air, warming me instantly. My feet carry me to Captain America's section.

The picture of the Howling Commandos was the width of the entire wall. Each of them standing tall with pride, men of courage.

Captain was in the center, the disciplined and loyal leader, the only one facing forward. His face nowadays was a bit more worn down, wrinkles prominent on the side of his eyes and mouth. But nonetheless, he didn't look close to hundred years of age, so I'd say he had aged well in his couple of years outside of cryo.

The focus of attention whenever I see this picture is never Captain; it's always the man on his right.

James Buchanan Barnes, or as Captain calls him Bucky. Bucky died falling off the side of a HYDRA train.

At least that is what most believe.

I believe Bucky is still alive. He is somewhere in a HYDRA center, leading a life much different from that of the picture in front of me.

I believe Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider.

Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider is a belief I keep to myself. A sentence like that uttered at S.H.I.E.L.D would get you fired and make everyone lose respect for you. Since I've spent years trying to earn the respect I'm given, I've kept my mouth shut. All the evidence I have put together on Bucky, I collected during when no one was watching and by going into databases that I don't have the clearance for.

So, this belief could potentially also get me arrested.

I had only brought this theory up to Natasha once. after I helped her repair the wing of her favorite jet, she kept coming back to me with help with her aircraft's and equipment. I became her go to and we started trusting each other, as much as an ex-Soviet spy can trust someone. But I knew that if there was anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D that had any idea who the Winter Solider was it was her.

After another sleepless night, trying to work up the courage the bring up the topic, I did.

I decided to do it over morning coffee, hoping that the fact that we had woken up just a few minutes before would mellow her. The theory raced past my lips after keeping it for years, it left me like a breath that I had been holding in for too long.

Natasha laughed it off and shook her head, getting up to get more sugar. There were a couple of things wrong with that, firstly, Natasha only took three packs of sugar with her coffee and her eyes said something different. They betrayed her, they showed fear at someone else discovering the truth, they showed they were hurting about truth that they had to hide.

She mentioned it to me a few days later when we were leaving S.H.I.E.L.D after a full day of work. I debated whether I should show her the file I had hidden in my apartment. A file full of all the information I could find on the Winter Solider. But something told me it wasn't the place or the time.

"It just makes sense." I whispered to her, she rolled her eyes.

"No, it makes zero sense, it's a conspiracy theory." Natasha rebutted, moving towards her car. "One that could get you killed."

She got in her car, slammed her door, and raced away.

She wasn't pleased finding out that I frequent Captain's exhibition in the museum. I think she can tell I don't come here for Cap like everyone else does.

I move away from the wall and walk over to the uniforms, not being able to stop myself from looking back at Bucky.

I hope I am wrong, I hope that Bucky Barnes died the way we've been told. I hope he could rest in peace and that the legacy he has left behind isn't a lie, that the truth is something much more wicked.

"Oh Bucky." I whisper, dread filling my body, feet carrying me to stand under him once more. "Please be dead."

"I knew I would find you here." A voice whispers behind me.

"Oh, my god!" I yelp, jumping a step away from whoever was behind me.

Natasha chuckles briefly, "Visiting your favorite dead man I see?"

It is my turn to roll my eyes. Nat's eyes move upward, avoiding Bucky and skimming through all the other figures. She's ignoring him, hiding her reaction. I bite my lip, looking up at them, deciding to change the topic briefly.

"They got Captain's jawline perfectly." I point out.

"It is hidden by the chin straps." Nat reasons, looking down at me. "You can call him Steve you know? He gets upset that you still don't feel comfortable enough to call him by his first name."

"I do!" I object, "I just respect him a lot."

Nat smiles at me, "I tell him that, but it is time for you to call him Steve."

Nat drops the subject, her eyes becoming serious. I look down at my feet like a little kid caught causing mischief, which I kind of am. If I am wrong, I am disturbing the memory of a dead man.

But I am right, which means I am changing the way we all think the world is.

"Natalia, the Winter Solider is a ghost story, most agencies don't even believe in him. How you went from that to him being Bucky amazes me. Why are you so sure that Bucky is alive?" Nat ask, stepping as close to me as possible. I hesitate, I could show her the file, but I still don't feel comfortable doing that. But I can tell her my original reason why I started my investigation.

"They have the same eyes." I whisper.

"Are you kidding me? You are willing to ruin the history of a brave solider- You are going to destroy Steve, just because of they have the same eye color?" Nat rants, her eyes showing rage.

"No." I stop her, she shuts her mouth right away at my tone. "They have the same eyes, not the same color, they are the same because they belong to the same person."

Nat looks down at me, her eyes watering slightly. She tries to speak, but no words come out.

"You don't have to tell me I'm wrong again Nat. I know I'm right." I declare, "I've seen too much to be told otherwise. _I know it's true_."

Nat moves forward to place her hand over my mouth, trying to silence me before everyone in the room hears. Everything I had stored in me, all the investigation, the own secrets about who I am, I couldn't hold in much longer. I slap her hand away, my head shaking violently.

"No Natasha!" I shout, heads move over to look at us. I blink away tears, memories of my training, my childhood all rushing back to me at once. "Do you want to know why I care so much? Maybe because Bucky and Steve are not that different from me."

Her eyes search my face trying to understand. Before she can reply, I turn around and walk away, leaving her standing underneath Bucky.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi everyone! I know that in MCU Peggy is said to have children and a husband, but for now, I think I will be keeping them out of this story and having Natalia be her only child. I would really love some feedback, just to see if you are all enjoying this story. If you guys really enjoy it I might set up a_ tumblr _in future for this fic, depending on how it is received._

 _Thank you for reading_

 _P.S- Please be kind in the reviews this is my return to any sort of writing after a 4 year hiatus, I might be a little rusty._


	2. Chapter 2- A thing for Carter women

Chapter 2-

On the walk back to my apartment, it started to rain lightly, enough to wet my sweatshirt. The rain felt calming against my flesh, which was still hot from my conversation with Natasha and the sprint I fell into on the way back. Despite the rain, when I reached the apartment I didn't miss the motorcycle that was parked outside, the headlights of the cars passing mixed with the rain making it glisten.

It looks familiar, maybe it's the neighbors?

I open my front door, before I even take a step inside my apartment I am meet with the owner of the motorcycle. He is standing in the middle of my living room, hands in pocket, looking as shocked to see me as I am to see him.

Never would have pinned Captain America as someone to break and enter.

"I know it isn't right to break in." Captain says. His blue eyes avoiding mine, right hand digging through his pocket. It takes a moment before he seems to find what he was looking for, I stand uncomfortable at the front door, before remembering, _this is my home._ I step inside closing the door as his hand pulls out revealing a key. "But I have a key so… I didn't break in."

My eyes widen at the key in his hand. Did S.H.I.E.L.D have secret drawer with copies of all its agents house keys? I wouldn't doubt it, especially after they hired a man like Rumlow. Also, just because he has a key doesn't change that I didn't _know_ he owned a copy of my key. This is all still breaking and entering in some degree in my book.

"How do you-"I stutter.

"Your mother." Captain explains.

Ah, of course, my mom who my boss has an almost century long romance with. Is it sad that my mom has more romance in her life at this age than I've had in my entire life? Other than the meaningless high school romances, my love life is as interesting a watching paint dry.

I sigh, closing my door, right arm throwing my phone on the coffee table. It almost falls of the side, but Captain arm shoots out catching it, placing it gently on the surface.

Honestly, that phone screen had so many cracks one more wouldn't be a big problem.

"Thanks." I mutter moving past him into my kitchen. "Water?"

"Yes, thank you." He answers, still standing in the middle of my living room. "Your mom mentioned I can come over whenever."

Yes, that sounds like mom. Inviting people to visit me whenever they please. She has always wanted me to make more friends, it was helpful when I was a little girl, but now that I am grown up and living on my own… It can get creepy like right now.

"I have a lot of questions." Steve adds.

I paused, my hand on the refrigerator handle. Did he found out about the file? There is no way for him to know about the file, I haven't told anyone unless they have been keeping tabs on me. Maybe Natasha slipped up and told him about my theory? Is this why she was at the museum? To warn me that Captain was looking for me? For answers?

What if I am wrong? What if Bucky is dead and I am giving Steve false hope that his best friend is alive?

Even as I think that I know Bucky is alive. It all makes too much sense to be my mind playing tricks.

"I know you don't have answers." Captain says. The breath I was holding left my body. Jerking the fridge door open, I grab two glasses from the counter next to the fridge. "But you do have answers to the questions I have about you."

Oh no.

I pause once again.

"Captain," I state turning around. Captain shakes his head.

"Please, call me Steve. We're past this by now." He reasons. I nod, okay, Steve.

"Steve, I don't think I can- "I am interrupted before I can finish.

"No! No! I don't want to know about your life before the adoption." Steve explains, his eyes apologetic. "I know that your mom has asked for it to be kept private and Peggy wouldn't do that if it wasn't to protect you. But I want the truth, not the rumors around headquarters. I would ask her but she's…"

He wants to know about the parts that involve mom, I can do that. I am more than willing to talk about the childhood Peggy Carter provided for me. I wish I didn't remember a life before her, to be honest. If I was asked, I would tell you Peggy is my one and only parent.

Pouring an even amount of water into the two glasses, my foot moves to kick the fridge door close.

"Sit, Steve," I tell him, moving to the living room.

His feet move backward as he falls on the couch. I sit beside him, back straight, not sure how to act with my boss sitting on my couch. Coughing a bit to hide the awkwardness that was swarming the air, I hand him his glass.

"Thanks." He whispers taking a drink. "I guess I should start at, what age where you adopted at?"

That's an easy question, "I was seven."

"You were adopted in Bulgaria?" Steve ask.

I chuckle, Steve looks taken aback. Bulgaria? Is that what was running around headquarters? Anything to spice up a story.

"I'm from Brooklyn, Steve." I reveal feeling some of the awkwardness lift. Steve nods, a smile playing on his lips.

"I think that's one of the rumors." Steve declares, "Did you always want to be an agent?"

"No, I wanted to be a journalist originally. Then I signed up for an engineering class my freshman year of high school, out of curiosity mostly. I got hooked and I was actually pretty good." I explain, now my turn to smile. I skipped two levels after my first year, by junior year I was going to magnetic school. If there is anything I am great at it is being an engineer.

"I was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D at eighteen, right out of high school. Peggy didn't mind, because I was going to work on their aircraft's mostly, maybe help out with weapons, vehicles; but aircraft's was my focus."

"Then how did you- "Steve started asking, I sighed.

"Every day I would go to work at hearing stories about my mom, saw my cousin train, watched others train. I…" I rambled feeling a bit embarrassed. I wanted to be like them.

"You wanted to be like them?" Steve asked, his eyes showing understanding. I nodded, we have too much in common Cap.

"I wondered what they had that I didn't." I voiced, Steve nodded, understanding deeply what I was trying to express. "There was only one way to find out."

A bright smile broke onto his face. A smile I would only see around Natasha or the other Avengers, never one that had been directed at me. Now that it was, it felt warm and comforting, I could tell why people admired not just Captain America, but Steve Rogers.

"So, I enrolled in their agent program, as well as their engineering one." I finished explaining, moving my eyes away.

"You did both at once?" Steve gasped dumbfounded.

"Of course, I did. I am 24." I sassed him, chuckling. "I couldn't get through the 5 years of both, one at a time, and be both your engineer and agent."

"Did you spend high school in Europe?" Steve asked it was now his turn to look away from my eyes.

"Nope. I always stayed at home." I responded quickly.

"Did your dad have abilities too?" Steve delivered this one as he set his drink down.

"No, he didn't. He didn't know how to handle mine, which is why he-"You _can't tell him!_ My mind yelled at me, I closed my mouth right away, realizing I almost revealed something I shouldn't have. Was this Steve's motive? To trick me into telling him who I am.

"He gave me up for adoption." I save myself. But I know Steve noticed my mishap, he quickly readjusted himself on the couch.

"I am sorry if I am prying too much, I really am." Steve apologized, I narrow my eyes. "I'm really here to just know about you and Peggy, I don't care about anything before that."

I look around, not sure if I should trust him. You can't trust anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D nowadays… But Steve isn't like everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D, in an odd way he is an outsider, doesn't fit in. He is like me. He is just as lost as I am, as out of place as me.

"Do you want to see pictures of my childhood?" I offer my eyes falling on the photo albums on my bookshelf. "I even have some old pictures of mom, before I came along."

His cheek reddens.

Hmm, evidently Steve has a thing for Carter women.

"Yeah, I'd love that." He whispers I get up to grab them. _Oh, I am sure you would._

* * *

 _Do you have any idea where the hell Fury is?_

I roll my eyes at the text from Natasha. No, I don't know where Fury is. Even if I do have a file on the Winter Solider doesn't mean I have files on everyone. I move my fingers quickly over the keypad.

 _Nope._

I sent the message just like that, cut and dry.

If this is her way of reopening communication after yesterday, she is going to need to try a little harder. I drop my phone back on the desk. I have more important things to do right now than hunt Fury down for her. Knowing Fury and how it is lunchtime, he is probably in the cafeteria getting one of those snack wraps he is obsessed with lately.

Maybe I'll pick one up for lunch as well, they are kind of addictive.

There are blueprints laid across my desk, a ruler in the middle of them. Revising one of the projects a recruit has drawn up, it has potential… If it wasn't for the measurements were wrong, meaning that the plane would lean to one side.

 _Revise measurements_. I write in the margins, highlighting it.

Seriously it is impressive how he manages to get the challenging work right and the basic work so wrong. There should be someone helping them draw these up before sending them in, I remember my first few drafts were horrendous. Maybe I'll email the boy offering some tutoring if he needs it, I know I would have loved some if I had the chance.

Feet bouncing off the floor, sending me spinning towards the opposite side of my desk where my computers are set up. My eyes find the red flagged message meaning emergency.

The name of the person who sent is in bold.

 **Nick Fury**.

I gulp, at least I found him?

I click on the message quickly:

 _ **ANSWER YOUR DAMN BLUETOOTH AGENT CARTER.**_

 _ **NATALIA ANSWER ME NOW.**_

Two messages mean it's urgent, Fury would never send two messages if he could just take an elevator ride to where I was. The last one was sent 20 seconds ago, my hand finds the Bluetooth headset on my ears right away, turning it on.

"Sir?" I ask when I hear it connect before he can reply I hear the gunshots. Panic plagues my chest, am I too late? "Sir?!"

"Carter! What took you so long?" He demanded, the gunshots still prominent. My eyes find the blueprints on the desk behind me. Is that even a good excuse right now? "Never mind! Don't answer that! Knowing you, you turned your Bluetooth off in this morning after Rumlow ordered you to keep it on!"

Well.. he isn't wrong, Rumlow did- no, this isn't the time to discuss this!

"Nick, how can I help?!" I ask as the gunshots stop for a moment. My hands already pulling up his location, finding him in his car. Okay, now I need the street cameras, it takes a second for them to open, but the moment they do I only have on question.

"What did you do?!" I yell.

"WHAT?!" Nick ask incredulously at my accusatory tone.

"You are surrounded by the police!" I shout at him.

"Keep your damn voice down! They aren't the police, check the police dispatches they are none in my area!" Nick shouted back, I hear the computerized voiced in his car speaking in the background.

If they aren't the police then who are they?

The answers hit me too quickly, I stutter as I start opening the control panel I have of his car.

"Nick it's-"I whisper, working as fast as I can.

"I know." He answers quickly. He came to me, I need to do better, I need to help him.

"What is the car telling you?" I ask, lowering my voice, becoming aware of the cameras in my lap.

"It's rebooting the propulsion system." He answers back, his voice sounding panicked, as much as Nick Fury can sound panicked that is. For as long as I had known Nick he had kept his composure, never letting himself believe this was the end.

Why had he called? Was it to say goodbye? He was the only one other than Peggy that knew the truth.

The screen on left shows the street view, they are taking an object out of a van, carrying over to Nick's driver's window. They're going to break in.

"Nick move to the passenger seat!" I order him.

"You think I'm not doing that right now?!" He sasses me. Good to see he isn't losing his sense of humor in the face of death.

They hit the car, it is shoved violently to the left.

"15%!" Nick tells me sounding shaken. I start bringing up all the countermeasures he has on screen, there is a machine gun hidden right next to him.

I hear the car being hit again, "I have the countermeasure re-"

"Hold it!" He yells back, my mouth falls open, what is he doing?

I look at the window of his car through my street view. It isn't weak enough, if uses the gun now, the bullets will bounce back on him.

"Holding," I state.

They strike again, "Now Natalia!"

I sent the command right away and watch as fire comes out of Nick's window. A message pops up on my other screen: _Reboot complete_.

"It is done rebooting, whenever you are ready sir." I explain returning to calling him 'sir', now that I am more confident he is _not_ going to die. As he reverses and pulls out of the situation, I set the traffic cameras to follow his license plate. Therefore, I can't lose him until I know he is safe.

I watch as he weaves through the traffic, heart racing. C'mon Fury, find a place to go to. I shut my eyes realizing, where is it safe now? Not even here, I am currently in the enemy's mouth. I open my eyes panicked.

The moment of a police car racing past a camera I have open in the middle left corner of my screen catches my attention.

"They're back on you." I let him know, right as they pull up beside him and open fire.

 _Think, Natalia, think. What can you do?_

I don't know! I am failing Fury, I am sitting here watching him being hunted down and I have no idea what to do-

Something else catches my attention.

The man stands in the middle of the road, dressed in all black, even the mask that covers his face is black. Holding a weapon, he starts walking without any fear, not hesitating once. Determined footsteps, he isn't afraid he'll get hit. It's like he is programmed.

"Who is that?" I ask, my voice quivering as a name flashes in my head.

It makes sense, if Hydra really is here, then they would bring him. But not now, not with Nick being the one in his way. Please. My shakes involuntarily as time seems to slow down.

"No," I beg.

But no matter how many times I try to deny what was in front of me, it wouldn't stop him from raising his arms, weapon aimed and shooting the explosive under Nicks car.

"Please tell me you have your seatbelt on Nick!" I plead as I watch the explosive disappear under the car, he doesn't have time to reply as his car he flipped over. The fire from the explosion alive on the top of the flipped car, a blaze of black smoke dancing behind it. The man moves aside to avoid being hit.

The momentum of the explosion sends the car sliding forward for a few feet.

The man waits for it to stop sliding. He is going to finish the job, he always does.

"Nick, he is coming for you," I whisper, hoping I am still connected to the Bluetooth in the car as the man disappears into the smoke. I wait a moment, no reply, no sounds. No gun shots. "Nick? Nick, are you still there…."

My eyes move back to Nick's control panel, searching to see if the car is still connected to my ear piece. Next, to the tab that reads Connected Devices, it says _Agent Natalia Carter._ Meaning whoever looks at his car's screen will see the same name.

 _He_ is seeing my name, he knows who I am. I am now on his list.

I look around trying to grasp everything that has happened in the last four minutes, eyes landing once again on the street view. Even as everything rushes in my mind at once, I know a few things without any haziness due to how they are right in front of me: Nick was able to get away, I am still connected because the control panel says so, the Winter Solider has seen my name, he also hasn't left the side of the car.

I know the last one because the smoke has cleared and I can see him standing next to the gap where the car door use to be. The car door he had ripped away with his bare hands.

If I am ever going to test my theory, this would be the time.

So, with all the courage in me, I lick my dry lips and whisper the one thing that could save my life now.

"Bucky?"

A beat passes.

For a moment, I think I've been mistaken this entire time, it was just a conspiracy theory.

But then his arm twitches, his head turning to look around the street. He seems disoriented, feet stumbling a few steps back.

It doesn't take long for the men in police uniforms to rush forward to restrain him. One lifts what looks like an injection and strikes his neck with it, instantly his body slacks. The officers let him go, Bucky drops to the ground like a doll.

The officer walks into the car and rips something out. The Bluetooth piece.

Instinct takes over. I stand up, grabbing my phone as I go, and walk to the stairs right away, the elevator is too easy to get jumped in.

I now know two things:

Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider and he is now tracking me along with a list of others.

My phone vibrates as I race down the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest. I look at the screen and see the message.

 _Go to my car._

It's from Sharon.

* * *

Sharon car was spotless. There was no trash on the floor, not one leftover receipt from a fast food run. The seats were also impeccable, I could hold a magnifying glass and not be able to find one strain or thread out of place. It was exactly how Sharon's car should look, put together and clean.

Sitting inside it in my agent uniform after months of not talking was not the odd part. The odd part was that she was wearing scrubs.

"That's new," I comment as she changing lanes.

"Part of my mission." She states, her tone sending the message that it was all I needed to know for now. "Fury sent me a message to take you back to where I've been staying the past few months."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying my best to put aside everything I just witnessed. Nick was still looking out for me even if I wasn't much help to him after all.

"You haven't been hiding in some beach in Jamaica?" I ask trying to lighten the mood.

"Nope." Sharon deadpans.

Oh, that's how that feels. Maybe I shouldn't have been so rude to Natasha when she was trying to find Nick, she is probably still looking for him now, not knowing he was almost killed by the Winter Solider. No, Natasha must know, she always knows everything, always on top of everyone. The streets and cars race by, he is still hunting me down, but since Fury is still alive, he takes a higher standing on the list than I do.

I'm safe for now.

We arrive at an apartment building… this is the same apartment building Steve lives at.

"You can't take me to Steve right now Sharon!" I exclaim looking at her feeling out of control of myself and the situation. If I am at Steve's place when the Winter Solider comes for me, he'll also find Steve.

"Just trust me, Natalia," Sharon replies, opening her car door. "Get out."

"No!" I protest, sitting back in my seat. "He is after me! I can't lead him to Steve, I am not getting out of this car! I'm protecting Steve, it's-"

"That's exactly my mission! I don't know who _he_ is, but I know finding you in the passenger seat of my car would be a lot easier than in the apartment that is under my secret alias." Sharon throws back at me, her head coming back into the car. Our eyes meet, she's been protecting Steve for the last couple of months. How long have we've been breached?

Too long, long enough that they could be everywhere.

I slump down, she is right, it would be easier to find me out in open like this. It is better to go inside, but only if I stay away from Steve's apartment.

"Now, get out before Steve gets home and sees you in my car." Sharon orders, slamming her door shut once again. This time I follow her orders.

With shaky limbs, I get out of the car and climb the stairs of the apartment building. Our walk is silent, she leads the way as I follow closely behind. We stop at what I presume is her apartment, at least the one she has been staying at. The door has a number 3 on it, the door to its left has a 4, Steve's apartment.

You've got to be kidding me. This isn't safe. I must keep Steve safe, not just for the good of whatever future S.H.I.E.L.D. has left but because it is what mom would want. I can figure out another way to safe, I can run away. Get off the grid, long enough for the Winter Solider to leave town. Maybe he'll forget about me? It was only one incident, it is possible that the officers that put him down didn't hear me call him by his real name.

They need a valid reason to track me, the only evidence that I know Bucky is the Winter Solider is my file on him.

The file that is in my apartment, the one under _my_ name. The same apartment that they are without a doubt raiding right now, if they hadn't by now.

I should get back to my own apartment. If they aren't there yet, I can destroy the file before they see it. If they are already there, I can let them get the job over with, kill me before I lead them to others. Everything that can make me a critical target is there. The file I have on Bucky, hidden in the bottom of my closet, buried under boxes full of books. In one of these boxes if my birth certificate, the original one that Peggy gave me when she sat me down to tell me the truth. My medicine that would clue them on my ability. Everything all my secrets, all I have to lose is at my apartment.

Okay, back to my apartment I go. I can't run back there, Sharon would stop me. But I can teleport there. If I know a place well enough I can think of it, without having to use sensory recall, and transport there by just thinking its name. But that only works if I am calm and in control, right now I am neither of those, I have to remember my bedroom if I want to go there.

The yellow wall on the right side of the room. The dent on the wall from when I slammed the door into it carrying boxes in the day I moved in. The pile of dirty clothes on the right corner. The TV mounted on the wall above it, playing One Tree Hill still probably, the scent of vanilla from the candles I light to relax.

My hands start shaking, I feel my entire body vibrate. I'm almost there, I would have been there by now if I wasn't so staggered by the rest of the events of the day.

"Sharon-"I whisper through a tight throat. Her hands open the door, hiding her key in her coat again. She makes a sound acknowledging me, "I need to go back home."

Her eyes meet my hands right away. Furious is the only way I can explain her expression, she shakes her head violently.

"No." She states roughly, arm shooting out to touch my back. I am shoved forward into her apartment, all my concentration on my room breaking as I stumble hitting the floor of Sharon's apartment.

Sharon closes the door behind us, almost on cue, her phone rings.

"Ugh, not now." She moans looking at the name on the screen. I hold onto the wall, back resting on it, trying to support myself. The weight of the day on me and the toll of trying to teleport in this state mix together, creating a cocktail of exhaustion, my limbs scream in protest.

My breathing quickens and I clench my eyes close.

Put in all in order, Natalia.

We are compromised. Hydra is still going strong. Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is after me. Nick Fury is missing. The Winter Solider wants to get Nick first. If it finds me near Steve it might put Steve on its list.

Okay, good, now concentrate on anything else. Anything that doesn't remind you that life as you know is gone.

Noises? Are there any sounds in the room? All I can hear is Sharon shuffling around, murmuring lowly on her phone… Wait, behind her voice… Violins. There are soft violins playing. My eyes open slowly, surveying the room, there is no radio or record player on. The violins are coming from outside.

The side of the room I am facing it is coming from that side. The left side of the room, the wall that connects us to Steve's apartment.

The violins are coming from Steve's apartment. There is someone in there.

But his motorcycle wasn't outside.

"Yes, Peggy, she is safe, she is at home right now." Sharon's voice reaches me now that I am more present.

Mom?

Mom calls Sharon when she's worried about me? Sharon, Steve, Nick, she goes to them all because I won't call, I won't visit. It's selfish of me but I can't see her, one moment she remembers me and the next she can't even remember her age, it hurts too much. I know it is worse for her, she is living through it after all. But it hurts too much to watch her go through this. Although, I am quickly realizing it hurts more to see her beg around for updates on me. I shouldn't make her go through that.

But I can't contact her, not now.

"The violins!" I choke out through my throat which still feels tense.

Sharon looks confused at first until she slowly turns her head to the left wall of her apartment. There is someone next door. Hastily she grabs a few sweaters that are hanging on a cloak hanger by the door, pointing behind me. I follow her finger, bumping into a laundry basket. Is she going to make it look like she needs detergent as an excuse to get inside the apartment?

I hand her the basket, watch her open the door, still on the phone with my mom.

Right as the door is about the close, I see Steve's jacket.

This just keeps getting better.

Their conversation is distorted by the door that separates us, although I can hear Steve's attempts at asking Sharon on a date. Would Steve be asking her if he knew who she was? Probably.

Sharon comes back in shortly after.

"Seriously?" I ask, she raises an eyebrow. "Mom dated him!"

"I turned him down!" Sharon defended herself. Yes, she did turn him down, but I am sure it was only because her mission doesn't allow her to date him. "Plus, that was almost a century ago."

I knew it, she likes Steve.

"Now, come on." She whispers, bringing our attention back to the problem at hand.

She jogs over to the wall that connects us to Steve's apartment, putting her ear to it. After years of training, studying, and an intense initiation process this is what the best of our spying skills lead us to. Having our ears pressed against a wall like two little kids trying to pry on the conversations adults next door are having. As coldness of the wall kisses my ear, Sharon's eyes meet mine.

We were those little kids. We would be crouched down, ears stuck to our bedroom doors, hungrily seeking any piece of information we could gather from the conversations being held on the other side.

A knowingly smirk reveals itself on Sharon's face, her blonde hair falling slightly into her face, "Just like old times."

It might not be much, but her acknowledgment of this shared connection we have, makes some of the tension in my shoulders leave. I still have a family. I haven't lost everything.

"Is that what we are?" Steve's muffled voice whispers in my ear, he is talking to someone.

"That's up to you." Fury's voice answers back.

For a moment, I can't believe what I was hearing, he is right next door. But before I can ask Sharon if she heard Nick like as well, the loud bang of gunshots is heard. The noise so loud it shakes the wall. They've been attacked.

He's back.

We both push off the wall at the same time, Sharon already drawing her weapon. She nods at the cabinets in the kitchen where I would, without a doubt, find a gun for me to use. As I run to the kitchen, I see Sharon sprint out of the apartment, going to check if Steve was hit. The gun isn't hard to find, it is in the first cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, sitting in the middle of the empty cabinet.

I need to have a talk with Sharon about how to hide things because clearly, it is not her strongest skill.

I grab it, check if it is loaded. It is. I take my stance, then run out, before I can second guess anything. In the hallway, I find that Steve's door has already been broken down.

I walk in to find him in the corner his shield drawn, Sharon next to him, on the floor beside them is Nick blood leaking out of this body. Ever sensible part of me shuts down, everything I was taught in training gone, as I lower my weapon and stand stunned. He outsmarted the Winter Solider once, he was faster than him, but it was only a matter of time. It is only a matter of time before he gets to the rest of us.

"Nick," I whisper.

Steve's head snaps to me, realizing I am also in the room.

"Natalia?!" He asks looking back at Sharon, "How?!"

"We're cousins," Sharon explain courtly, Steve looks at both of us, mouth wide. Sharon shouts out to me. "Hey!"

The impact of her voice hits me as if she had slapped me, my eyes find hers instantly. The message clear. Remember your training, you can do this.

"You are smack down in the middle of the window, perfect view for the shooter." Sharon points.

I don't bother checking where I was standing, still concentrated on Fury's body on the floor. I snap back. I can still help him. I move away from the middle of the room, crouching down beside him, checking his vitals.

"Vitals are faint but he's still alive, we need EMT's," I inform them, voice much steadier than I had expected it to sound.

Sharon brings out a walkie talkie, radioing in letting the person on the other side know we need EMT's. Why didn't he shot me now that he had the chance? Maybe I'm not next on his list. Fury seemed to be the first one on the list. I should be next. Unless Fury is a veil, hiding the real target.

Steve's hand tightens on his shield as the person radios back to Sharon, asking about the shooter.

I watch Steve make the decision, it's a split second, slow enough for me to connect the dots. But too quick for me to stop Steve, to explain everything to him. To tell that he can't stop the Winter Solider, he is programmed to not stop until his target is dead. I don't have enough time to tell Steve that he wouldn't be able to kill the Winter Solider even if he wanted to because he is his best friend who he thought had died almost a century ago.

"Tell them I'm in pursuit." Steve orders determined, jaw set as he jumps through the window after the gleam of a metal arm.

Steve is the real target. The Winter Solider doesn't know it yet, he doesn't know the motives, just the mission.

"No!" I yell as I watch Steve land on the rooftop next to us. There is only one way to stop the Winter Solider, I turn back to Sharon, "He has to remember who he is!"

"What?!" Sharon asked confused, seeming annoyed. She thinks I'm distracted that I'm still not here, I sigh. I should just tell her everything, it could save Steve's life.

"Don't." Nick's strangled voice breaks through Sharon and I's gaze. My gaze finds him on the floor as he shuts his eyes again, "He won't hurt him."

So, you know too? I look back at the window Steve jumped out of, ignoring Sharon's questioning look. Who else knows?

* * *

 _AN: Hey guys! Hope you all enjoyed! Please provide any feedback on how you're enjoying the story._

 _Thank you! Have a lovely day!_


	3. Chapter 3- Rumlow is a prick

Chapter 3-

Once at the hospital Nick was taken into surgery immediately, his state labelled critical. We are allowed to watch the surgery through a two-way mirror that lets us see what the doctors are doing. I stand beside Agent Hill, Natasha on my right side looking as close to tears as I've ever seen her. Steve beside her looking at the scene in front of him as he still tries to make sense out of everything that has happened.

His left hand is clutched. It's been like that since I entered his apartment after Fury was attacked. Fury must have given him something.

It is unnatural to see Fury on an operation table, intubated, as doctors cut into him. They try to fix the damage done to his system. They work to fix his body to the point that he can live on. A man who I thought was indestructible has been taken down in a matter of seconds. All my life I spent it looking up to Fury, ever since the first day I meet him when he came by our house to drop a file off for my mom.

I hid behind her, thinking that the man with the eyepatch was rogue pirate, my imagination always larger than life. Fury glanced at me hiding behind my mom… and he smiled.

I always see that smile when I look at him, it is what I see now when I look at him on the operation table. A genuine smile that takes over your whole face.

"Do pirates eat cookies?" I remember asking him, holding the cookie I had in my hand less tightly.

Fury nodded chuckling, "I _only_ eat cookies!"

My mom laughed at that too, I looked up at her. If she is letting this pirate into our home then he must be a nice one. Mom would never put me in danger. He must be hungry from his journey and if he only eats cookies, the polite thing is to give him mine.

So, without a second thought, my little hand extended upward, offering the cookie to Fury. His eyes shined with adoration, grasping it lightly.

"Thank you, Natalia." He whispered and this time it was my turn to smile. I never got to thank him back for everything he did, for being kind, for following along with a child's crazy imagination and for believing in that child far into her adulthood.

The heart monitor starts showing that Fury heartbeat is slowing down.

"Don't do this to me, Nick," Natasha whispers.

He has no choice. He must let go, his fight is over. A tear escapes me as my hand presses to the screen.

So, this is goodbye?

"Thank you, Nick," I whisper, a silent sob leaving me as the heart monitor stops picking up any activity.

Natasha runs out of the room, Steve follows, I stay. I stay until he is put back together, his face covered by a white sheet. Once I know he is free to rest in peace, I wipe my tears away and move out of the room.

Natasha is sitting in the hospital cafeteria, a coffee mug in front of her. The coffee is hot enough that steam is rising into her face, she blows air down into the mug trying to cool it. I sit in front of her, letting a beat pass as her eyes meet mine, acknowledging me. For the first time since entering the hospital, I feel something besides grief and despair. I feel anger.

"I was right," I growl out.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, "What?"

I slam my hand on the table, she jumps slightly not expecting me to react like that, "It _was_ him, the one who ki-… The person who killed Fury! It's the Winter Solider."

"How do you know?" Natasha asked, her calm expression melting away, being replaced with one of absolute terror.

"Natasha! I've been stalking this man for years! I would know him when I saw him!" I spat out at her, not caring about my volume. "Oh! And another fucking fantastic detail!"

I move forward, finding joy in watching her eyes widen.

"Bucky Barnes _is_ The Winter Solider," I whisper, Natasha shakes her head. "I called him Bucky and he snapped out of whatever trance they put him in when he's on missions!"

Natasha opens her mouth to respond, but her eyes land on something behind him. She closes her mouth and sighs.

"I know you did everything you could do Natalia." She says, her eyes landing on her coffee again. Her hands find mine, grasping tightly. What?! I pry my hands away from hers violently, she has got to be insane if she thinks I am making all of this up. That I am using Nick's death as support for a theory with no logic behind it-

"Agent Carter." A voice from behind me calls out. I recognize it right away as I turn around, Maria Hill. Natasha was trying to cover up our conversation.

"Fury left something for you, he was meaning to give it to you, but- "Maria's eyes dampen up before she can finish the sentence. Instead of finishing, she moves forward, it is now that I notice the suitcase in her hands.

She offers it to me, smiling weakly, "It's up to me that you receive it."

I nod at her, grabbing the suitcase, "Thanks."

She nods, walking away without another word. I turn around to find that Natasha has also left without another word. I can track her down later, maybe telling her wasn't the right choice, but I am not in the state of mind to make logical choices.

There is one thing I need to get rid of before Hydra finds me. My file on the Winter Solider. But before I do that I open the suitcase.

It is filled with pill bottles that are filled to the brim with tiny black pills. A piece of paper is folded into the corner of the suitcase, I open it up.

 _Dear Natalia,_

 _Despite how often your mother and I remind you that your ability is a gift, not a burden, it seems that you do not want it any longer. Although I have not found a way to be able to rid you of it completely, this is the best I can offer you. Take one of these pills every morning and your ability to teleport will be blocked for 24 hours._

 _But before you take your first one, I ask of you to think of the possibilities you are giving up by ignoring your ability. Teleportation is in a way telekinesis, you are moving an object yourself. You can control brain waves, who knows what if possible with that much potential? There is only one way to find out._

 _Use these wisely._

 _P.S.- If you need a refill, I am sure you know who to ask._

 _Always your biggest supporter,_

 _Nick Fury._

The stray tears that rest on my face fall as I finish the letter.

* * *

Not having my phone with me meant that I couldn't call anyone to give me a lift. The fact that I was constantly breaking in small fits of sobs, meant that I was not in the mental state to teleport myself to my apartment.

That's how I ended up walking the way home. Every step I took and was not shot in the back was a breath of relief. Walking through dark streets alone with no cell phone to contact anyone meant I was defenseless. If I was next up on the list this would be the perfect time for the Winter Solider to attack.

But as I got closer to my apartment building, I started looking behind my shoulder less, realizing that this was not going to be when he would attack.

Maybe I wasn't even a target. Maybe none of this happened.

I shook my head, looking down at the briefcase that I was trudging along. It was weighing much more than you expect a briefcase full of pills to weight. A physical reminder that is all had happened. It was starting to weight a little too much for me to carry a dozen blocks I had left. It had been a couple of minutes since I had to stop to wipe away stray tears. I am calm for now, it is a good time to teleport home.

I close my eyes, taking a breath, hands shaking already. I think of my living room and the kitchen light I left on this morning.

 _Home_.

It feels as though a fan was blowing on my face and then the air moves to circle my body. I count down the seconds, one, two, three. The rush of air settles.

I open my eyes. It takes a second for my surroundings to stop spinning and the wooziness to leave my body.

I am home.

There is my lavender couch facing the tv against the back wall. There is the coffee table littered with papers and an open bag of chips I was eating last night. There is the kitchen light I left on.

And standing in front of the kitchen, blocking most of the light is the Winter Solider.

The grip I have on the briefcase fails me. It falls on the ground with a hard thud as I hold in the scream that is working its way up my throat. He stands motionless, he didn't bother bringing a mask this time. Whether it was because they forgot or realized it was useless because I know who he really is, I don't ask.

The light behind him makes his left metal arm shine, blinding me, I blinked and turned my head to the side.

Even though I was defenseless and stunned, the perfect opportunity to attack.

He still doesn't move.

I clear my throat, reaching down to pick up the briefcase I had dropped. His left arms tighten into a fist, mechanical sounds clicking on the inside.

"It-It's just pills!" I choke out. At first, he makes no move to show that he cares, but after a moment his fingers loosen, eyes expressionless. I take in a shaking breath, hand finding the briefcase handle with trouble. I place it on the table.

It is then that my eyes find the file. It was left on the coffee table, opened to the first page that was a picture of the man in front of me.

"So, you found it," I whisper, my eyes closing, realizing I was without a doubt the next target.

"You made it tragically easy."

My eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. It was smooth, a bit raspy around the ends of words. If smoke on water had a sound, it would sound like him. Through years of researching him, I never once thought of his voice, but now that I heard it, I wonder why I never did. Was I too stuck on the legend of the man? Of the ghost story of the soldier to think of what he was like underneath all that.

Tragically easy? I made it harder than Sharon would have probably.

"Never thought anyone would go looking for it," I answer back, standing upright.

He had moved closer.

"Should have burned it." He grunts. His voice is drenched in anger. Why is he angry? Am I too easy of a target?

I would have never burned that file, it held the truth, it holds everything Bucky needs to remember who he is.

"I would never do that to you," I whisper. His eyes soften.

"Ask me what is in the file. Let me help you." I plead my feet moving forward, his eyes harden again. I stop walking, it is a warning.

"I don't need help." He lies and it sounds like a lie. Not one part of that sentence was believable, he doesn't believe it one bit.

"Yes, you do-"

My back hits the wall in an instant. His hand is on my throat robbing me of breath, cutting my sentence off. His grip is so tight that the hardness of the fingers pressing into my skin cut my flesh, pain mixing with the burning sensation of suffocation. I hold onto his hand with both of mine. Please, don't let me go like this.

Vision starts failing me, dark spots swimming around in front of me, they dance around Bucky.

Bucky. His eyes are glistening, he's crying.

Even if this is how I die, I can't die knowing I caused this man pain, adding to the absurd amount he has already felt. My hand leaves his, finding its way to his skin. He flinches back but doesn't pull away enough that he would have to let me go. The scruff on his face scratches my hand, his skin soft.

Once my hand rest of his face, I feel waves. I don't know if it the fact that I am dying, but I feel as though ocean waves are crashing into my fingers.

It isn't death. I've felt this _before_ , when I get too close to someone, I feel waves coming off from them. It comes with the territory of teleportation I guess.

His waves are crashing rapidly, he is panicking, fighting against himself.

With every ounce of strength, I have, I whisper in my head.

 _It's okay._

 _Remember who you are James._

The whisper travels through my body onto the fingertips touching Bucky's face. They crash into his waves, slipping inside smoothly.

Bucky blinks.

My eyes start closing, the loss of pressure as his fingers leave my throat is the last thing I feel as I fall into darkness.

I wake up on the couch, a bit confused. I thought I had died? Sitting up on the couch, my eyes search the room. Was he even here? Was I dreaming?

"Almost no one called me James."

I jump in surprise, turning my head to look behind me. Bucky is sitting in a chair behind me, head in his hands, hair ruffled.

"This is becoming a trend… you scaring me." I say, his eyes find mine.

He chuckles, "This is the part where you run."

It is. I should get up and run out of the door. This man had just broken into my apartment and strangled me to the point of passing out. That was all after he killed Nick Fury and exploding his car earlier in the day.

But this man had also done none of that out of free will.

I shrug, "You don't look like you're going to hurt me right now."

"I won't," Bucky states, it falls heavy in between us. His eyes glisten once more, he never wanted to hurt anyone.

"I know." I let him know, "It's why I'm going to take my time getting out of here."

Bucky eyes search mine, seeing if this was somehow a trap. Deciding that it wasn't, he nods at the briefcase on the table.

"You should probably take that, although I advise against taking one- I read the letter, I know it's wrong but-." He whispers.

It's wrong, but our instincts that have been drill into us through training take over. It's okay, I would have done the same. My eyes follow his as they find the file next to it.

"Take that as well, keep it safe for me."

Is he going to try and escape?

No, he knows he can't, not right now anyway. But he has something now that he didn't have before and it's hope.

With shaky hands I grab the file, opening the briefcase with my other hand. I put the file inside the briefcase, closing it. Relief feeling me, knowing it is safe for now. I haven't lost it.

"I'm sorry that I- "I apologize, not sure what to call what I did earlier. I point to my head than to his. Bucky shrugs.

"I'm used to mind control." He sighs.

I freeze. Is that what I had done? Had I controlled his mind?

I don't know whether it is worse that I took away someone ability to govern themselves or the fact that I did it to Bucky? A man who has spent a good 50 years being controlled. I can't believe I did that to him, I feel a sob work its way up my throat.

Bucky's eyes widen as the sob escapes.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know I was doing tha- I didn't know I could do that! I'm so sorry Bucky-"I start apologizing, Bucky shakes his head violently, right arm reaching out to hold me in place.

"It's okay Natalia," Bucky says, considering my eyes, letting me see he was being sincere. "I was about to kill you. It's messed up, but I'm glad you did. I also killed your friend."

"I don't want to do that to you again," I state, shaking my head. Bucky didn't kill Fury, Hydra did and they used Bucky to do so. Fury's death is not his fault, it isn't a valid excuse to manipulate him. His grip tightens on me.

"You have to. If there is no other way to get me to stop you need to do it." Bucky instructs me.

He is giving me permission to break him out of the trance if I have to from now on. It won't just save our lives, but in the end, it'll save his life. It'll help him receive ownership of his life. This is my way of helping him.

The only way to free him when he had been wiped thoroughly is by doing the exact thing that has him imprisoned. Life can so ironic it is cruel at times.

"Only if I can't bring you back by reminding you of who you are without controlling you," I tell him. His blue eyes stay on mine for a bit more, he nods understanding.

"You have to get going, Natalia." He whispers, hand leaving me.

I move off the couch, wobbly on my feet from passing out, carrying the briefcase with me. I turn back to Bucky who is already staring at the ground preparing himself for what is to come. He feels my gaze on him, he turns to me.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, James," I whisper.

 _Hospital parking lot._

* * *

The air hits me, right as Bucky smirks at me. There is that smirk that steals hearts.

I'll be honest, I was not sure why I went back to the hospital. I knew I couldn't go back to S.H.I.E.L.D, so the hospital was the only place that came to mind. Numbly I searched through most floors, ending up at the one that Nick had been taken to when he was brought in. I combed the floor to see if I find any leftover agents. As I get closer to the operation room Nick had occupied, my feet started to drag themselves. The little amount of energy I had left was leaving me. In my fight to keep going the emotional toll of everything and the fact that I hadn't eaten were starting to win.

The cafeteria was three floors down, I don't have the energy to go that far. But at the end of the hall, there is a break room with a vending machine by it.

I'll go for a kit-kat until I have enough energy to go down for some real food.

The first thing to catch my attention as I examine the selection of candy in front of me is that, clearly, someone in this hospital really likes bubble gum. The second thing is the hushed, angry voices coming out of the break room. The voices of Steve and Natasha.

I peek inside to find Steve caging Natasha up against the wall. Did she tell him about Bucky?

"He's a ghost story…." I hear Natasha say, I move away from the vending machine.

Natasha pulls her shirt up showing Steve the scar the Winter Solider left after their encounter. Her eyes find mine as I step inside the room, they fill with panic, and I understand right away. She's only telling him about who the Winter Solider is, what he has done, not that his identity is Bucky Barnes. Now that he has a personal vendetta with the Winter Solider it is best to not tell Steve.

If he is going after Bucky, I should stay with Steve, protect them both.

"What did I miss?" I ask, making my presence known. Steve looks behind him, taking in my appearance and the briefcase in my hands. I move the briefcase upward a bit, "Nick's parting gift to me."

Steve holds up his right hand, revealing a flash drive. The same flash drive from the pirate ship.

"This is mine." He informs me, I nod, "Stay out of this Natalia."

"No." I protest, "Where am I going to go Steve? S.H.I.E.L.D?"

Steve looks away at the mention of the organization.

"I know I am not the best agent, but I am already involved in this. Whether I go with you or not, the _ghost_ is after me too. I am going with you." I explain, moving closer to them. Natasha's eyes move to my neck, noticing the marks left there earlier.

"He's after her too. We should keep her with us, protect her- "Natasha attempts to convince Steve, I scoff.

"I don't need protecting." I interjected. I already survived the Winter Solider once, I don't get any credit for that?

"It is what Nick would want. It's what Peggy would want." Natasha whispers. Steve looks back at me, his determined expression diminishes after the mention of mom.

"Let's find out what the ghost wants." Steve states, always the one for theatrics. I roll my eyes.

"Sounds great, but also do you have any place I can leave this at?" I ask, holding up the briefcase. "It's ridiculously heavy."

Steve smirks taking the suitcase out of my hands.

* * *

As Steve drove Natasha's car he started giving me a rundown of everything that had happened, his meeting with Pierce, the elevator attack followed by his grand escape. It seems that Steve has a kink for throwing himself out of windows. He had finished giving me a summary of the past hours for him and started asking questions about how we had gotten to this point, I was still stuck on what had happened in the elevator. I always knew Rumlow was a piece of shit.

"I knew it all along, I knew that parrot looking body builder was stabbing us in the back all along!" I shout, my hands rising in the air. Natasha looked back at me giving me a pointed look, "Okay maybe I didn't know he was working with Hydra this entire time, but I knew _something_ was up. It's why I never liked him."

Natasha smirks, "You did make his days a lot more complicated, didn't you once switch his ketchup with hot sauce once?"

"Yes, I did," I confirmed proudly, Steve laughs from the wheel. "I was protecting my country."

"Of course, you were." Steve's eyes meet mine through the rearview mirror, they moved down to my throat. "How did you get those?"

I haven't had enough time to think of a proper excuse, an explanation as to why my throat had tiny scratches on them as if someone had been nipping it with a knife. Steve probably remembers that they weren't there when I entered his apartment.

"I can't remember," I tell him looking away out the window.

The car goes silent, the only sound is Natasha's navigation system instructing Steve where to go. He clearly doesn't believe that I don't remember, he knows I'm keeping secrets. Will Steve forgive me when he learns the truth? When he realizes that I know what has happened to his best friend for years and I haven't done anything to help. I can't help Bucky if I am dead. Will he understand that I was trying to do what was best?

He'll probably think I was being selfish. Maybe I am selfish, it's the reason why I'll never be a great agent like the other two people in my car. They would without hesitation risk their lives for the greater good but I wouldn't. I would try my best to stick around and fix the situation in any other way.

We pull into the mall parking lot, Steve turns around.

"Pretend to be Nat's little sister if anyone asks." He orders knowing I have a habit of ignoring orders. I nod confirming that I will follow his order. "Good. What is the name of the place where we can find computers?"

"Apple store," I answer taking my seat belt off. Natasha is already outside the car waiting for us. Steve follows my movements, getting out and opening my door for me. Still a gentleman, I can see why mom and Sharon have fallen for him, even though it's still weird.

"So, you and Sharon?" I ask awkwardly once I'm out of the car, Steve looks down at me incredulous, "Bad timing to bring it up? I would like to die without doubts, I mean if we are being hunted down by the Winter Shoulder."

His hand closes the door behind me, he walks in front of me shaking his head.

"Let's go."

The Apple store is not too busy when we get there, there are enough people to hide what we are doing, but not so many that they might see something they shouldn't. Natasha pushes the flash drive into the laptop.

"Nine minutes from now," Natasha whispers, already typing away. Steve glances around, he is wearing glasses to hide his identity. I look at the screen, she keeps on hitting a dead-end it isn't allowing her in. Steve mutters something to her.

"Person who designed this is slightly smarter than me, _slightly_." She throws back. Our time is ticking, we are being tracked down, there isn't enough time to crack our way into the files either way. But we still need to find some information here to help lead us elsewhere.

"Track where it came from." I whisper Nat's eyes snap to me, "We don't have enough time to break through."

A man in a blue shirt starts walking up to us, "Can I help you guys with anything?"

"Oh no, my fiancé and were just looking at honeymoon destinations?" Natasha says, her arms moving to circle around Steve's shoulder. Steve looks taken aback for a second but recovers in time to reaffirm that he and Natasha are getting married.

If Fury was here, he would be eating this up.

Nat gives me a pointed look, _distract_.

"I'm the little sister." I jump in, the man looks at me confused. Maybe that wasn't the best way to make my way into the conversation. Steve and Nat move back to the laptop. "I set them up… So I get to help with the honeymoon."

The man considers my jumbled explanation, "I see and you're thinking of?"

"Um-" I glance back at the screen, Steve moves his body to cover it more, I read the name out loud. "New Jersey?"

"Oh cool!" The man replies, pausing, examining Steve. Steve tenses up, I look back up at him. Those glasses are a terrible disguise, "I have the exact same glasses."

"Wow, you're practically twins." Nat fires back annoyed.

"I wish!" The man exclaims checking Steve out, "Specimen."

 _Oh, you have no idea._

"Anyway-"The man says finally walking away, holding up his name tag, "I've been Aaron."

I smile at him and watch him walk away, he was really nice. Steve's hand tugs my arm, pulling me along, breaking my smile with Aaron. Our time is up.

"Survey the area." He whispers in my ear.

My eyes move quickly to scan the busy mall we are rushing through, I spot them easily, they are doing the same as us scanning the area, ear pieces in place, "Standard tac team-"

"Two behind," Steve informs me looking behind us, my eyes are still scanning in front and across- there are two there as well.

"Two across." I reply, "And two coming straight at us."

Steve nods and starts whispering out an escape plan, but Natasha shakes her head telling him to put his arm around her and laugh. She is going to continue the play of being a couple, it is the best way to sneak out unnoticed and without having any bystanders get hurt. The two agents pass them without trouble, I pretend to be looking at the stores that we are passing, hiding behind Steve's back. They pass me too.

I let out a breath of relief as we step onto the escalator, the relief is short-lived though as I find Rumlow on the one beside us. He hasn't noticed us but he is approaching us.

"That son of a-"

"Not now." Natasha throws behind her shoulder, knowing that my instinct is to punch him for everything he has done, I bite my lip.

It isn't the right time.

Natasha turns around, "Look away at the bottom floor, avoid his eyes."

"Fine," I grunt Nat moves on to Steve next.

"Kiss me. Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable." She orders.

"Yes, they do." Steve agrees dryly, not entirely buying that this is going to work.

Honestly, why can't I get the kissing Steve hiding technique… Never mind, he dated my mom and has a thing for my cousin. Adopted or not, that is wrong on so many levels. I look away as Nat pushes Steve lips onto hers. Again, Fury would be loving this if it had happened in front of him.

I hear Rumlows cough as he looks away. I roll my eyes. Rumlow isn't just conceited and two-faced, it seems he is also emotionally constipated. How did he ever get hired by S.H.I.E.L.D., didn't Fury see anything wrong with him whatsoever? Maybe he was keeping him close believing that keeping the enemy close was a smarter alternative to not knowing what they were doing.

That has worked out great for us.

Natasha and Steve hit the bottom floor, I follow closely. Steve coughs awkwardly, turning his head to Natasha, "Great technique."

I can't help the laugh that escapes me, Steve shoots daggers at me and rolls his eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He defends himself as we step outside into the parking lot.

"Sure did sound like that's how you meant it." Natasha teases, Steve's cheeks turn pink as he moves forward quicker than us.

I contain my laughter, grateful for the comic relief, "Poor choice of words Cap."

Steve ignored me, pulling the keys of the car out of his pocket. I glance at them, he motions for me to put my hands up, I do catching the keys. I will need some coffee first if he wants me to drive us to New Jersey. Natasha brings out a metal stick out of the trunk of her car, moving to the black range rover next to us.

"What are you doing?" I ask as she shoves the stick into the driver window.

"This car is yours now, they won't track it to you, not for a while at least," Steve explains, his hand coming forward closing mine over the keys. The car was never theirs, they're leaving me behind.

"Steve, I am going with you- "I say slowly, letting each word rest heavily between us. Steve shakes his head, eyes sad.

"No, your briefcase is in the trunk. I need you to stay here. I know someone who will help you hide." Steve explains I feel tears in my eyes. Rejection hitting me in the gut, I am not good enough to keep up with them.

"Hey, hey," Steve says, hand coming up to wipe away some stray tears. "We'll be back soon. I need you to stay here to make sure we have a place to come back to, I need you to keep an eye out on everyone here. Plus…. Natalia, your mom isn't doing so great. I think you need to go see her before you regret it."

He is doing this for mom, after all these years Steve Rogers still loves Peggy Carter. He is still protecting her in every way he can, keeping her daughter safe. Steve Roger is a loyal person who will be devoted to you even after years pass, after countless arguments, he'll still be by your side. He doesn't deserve to be lied to, not just about Bucky, but about who I am.

"There is an assassin after you, go see your mom before it's too late." Steve whispers, left hand digging through his jean pocket, bringing out a piece of paper. He holds it up to my face, blue eyes melting into mine, I take the paper. "He will help you see her, he'll help you hide."

"Steve, I need to tell you- "I stutter out, guilt wrenched at how I've been lying to this man for so long. Steve shakes his head.

"Whatever you need to tell me. Tell me when you're ready, not when you feel obligated to. We will see each other again Natalia." Steve stops me, I hiccup, tears still falling. But I nod at him, thanking him silently for understanding, for being a great friend.

My arms reach out and circle around his neck, pushing my body onto his. I hold onto him tightly, he holds back just as tight. Steve and I have shared life and death situations together too many times before to share a normal bond. We are agents that have risked our lives for and alongside each other. He is my brother, someone I can always count on.

I've patched up his air crafts and upgraded his weapons enough times for him to trust me. He has listened to my opinions on mission enough for me to understand he respects and values my opinion. He has laughed at my jokes enough to know doesn't feel like it is an obligation to have me around, he enjoys my company.

"You're still my favorite Avenger," I whisper, feeling his chest shake with laughter.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I have a few questions for you guys just so I can have some feedback. Also, if you have any questions, ask away, I really want to make this interactive._

 _How do you like Natalia? Does she feel like a plugged-in character or like she is part of the world naturally?_

 _Do you have a relationship of her with one of the other character's that is your favorite?_

 _Do you have a favorite line in the story so far?_

 _What's your favorite Marvel character?_


	4. Chapter 4- Don't forget that

Chapter 4-

My first thought as I stand on the doorstep of my supposed saviors' house is that I have no idea who Samuel Wilson is. The paper had his name and address written hurriedly on its edge. There was no agent at S.H.I.E.L.D. named Samuel Wilson. He could be a retired agent, but I don't know how Steve would have met him if he wasn't active.

No, Samuel Wilson must have met Steve outside of work, and he must have left an impression on Steve Rogers. An impression compelling enough to make Steve think that Samuel was the only person we can trust in a time like this.

I was very intrigued to meet Samuel Wilson, to say the least.

The only thing that bothered me was that Samuel lived a few blocks away from my apartment, meaning I was close to the last place HYDRA saw me. Hopefully, they won't suspect me to be hiding out a few blocks away.

Once I was on his doorstep, I found myself wishing that I had my firearm or any weapon to protect myself; just because Samuel is friendly with Steve Rogers, that doesn't mean he'll be the same with Steve's friend. All I have to protect myself is the briefcase in my hand, it is heavy enough to knock someone out. Either way, if I stay on the streets Hydra will find me and I should stay in one place to meet up with Steve and Natasha when they get back.

There is no other place for me to go.

I knock on the door four times, hearing the footsteps running through the inside. The door opens enough for Samuel to put his head out, his eyes meet mine, probably noticing the panic in them. His eyes then move downwards taking in my appearance and the hood of my sweater that is pulled over my head.

We stand there for a moment until he raises an eyebrow and I realize he is waiting for me to talk.

"Samuel Wilson?" I ask, in case I somehow have the wrong address.

"Yes?" He asked suspicion laced in every syllable.

"I am a friend of Steve Rogers, he said you would help me," I explain looking around the street making sure no one is watching.

"Are you hiding from someone?" Samuel asked, his suspicious tone turning to a concerned one. I look back at him and nod.

Samuel nods back, lips pressed together as he pushes the door open the entire way, motioning for me to enter, "Call me Sam."

* * *

You want a change of clothes?" Sam asked from his kitchen.

My fingers tapping the surface of his kitchen table at a steady pace, trying to tune out the thoughts that are swarming in my head. He insisted that I sit down as he fixed me something to eat. I look up at him, his voice breaking me out of the trance I had entered since I sat down.

"That would be great, thank you," I reply, offering him a smile.

He disappears once again. My mind starts running in circles once again. Was I wrong to come here? Steve must have no connection to Sam, that Hydra knows of, to send me here. But now they'll have more than one reason to go after Same, Hydra will go after Sam if they find me here. I should leave.

 _But where will I go?_

When will the Winter Solider attack again? If I broke him out of his programming well enough, it could take days for him to be ready to jump back into the operation. Maybe they won't be able to brainwash him again? I shake my head, that would be worse, if they figure out he can't be reprogrammed, they will dispose of Bucky, they will kill him.

A pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are thrown on the table in front of me, I jump up out of surprise. Sam sits down in front of me, slowly pushing the clothes to me.

"Do you have a name?" He asks gently.

I hadn't even noticed that I hadn't given him my name. He let me into his house without knowing any information about me other than I am Steve's friend. He trusts Steve just as much as Steve trust him. I really hope he doesn't up regretting trusting us.

"Sorry, I'm Natalia Carter. I'm 24. I'm from Brooklyn." I introduce myself, "I'm an engineer and an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D."

Sam nods, eyes searching my face, "Are you stating those facts for me… or for yourself?"

I blink, taken aback by his question. I am stating them for myself. I am afraid of losing my mind. The world as I knew it has been demolished, I don't know who to trust. For all I know, every friend I had at work was working with Hydra, every stranger I talked to was a spy, everything I knew a lie. But maybe this is what I deserve for lying to them too.

But there are facts that I can't deny, they remain true no matter the circumstances. I am Natalia Carter, I am 24, I'm from Brooklyn, I am an engineer and an agent.

"Myself," I whisper, eyes avoiding his.

Is this how mom feels? Trying to grasp in the darkness for what is the truth?

"I need to see my mom," I whisper, head falling into my hands.

Sam's hand comes to rest on my shoulder, I melt into the comfort of his touch, "I'll help you see her, but first we need to get some food in you and have you rest. First we take care of you Natalia."

Take care myself? I've never done that before, I've always had someone walking closely behind me making sure I don't fall. When Mom started getting sick, Nick stepped up. He looked after me, dropped by my apartment to talk and make sure my fridge was full. He would always be the first to find remedies if I was sick, to tell me to take a break when I was overworking myself.

I don't have that anymore, in a sense I lost my father and now I am losing my mother.

"Nick is dead. I'm alone." I sob out, the truth behind the statement hitting me.

Nick Fury is dead and he is never returning. I won't ever see or talk to him again. My chest tightens, my lungs refusing to take in the air they need. A pain that I can't locate hits me like a punch to the gut. It is a searing pain, it feels as though my insides are on fire and I can't control the fire. Sobs escape my body, one after the other, desperately breaking through me, finally escaping.

Sam pulls me to his chest, arms going around me, physically trying to contain my sobs. I feel his head shake on top of mine.

"You're not alone kid." He whispers, hand rubbing circles onto my back, allowing me to let go of all the pain I had pent up in me.

* * *

 _The blocks that littered the floor were color coordinated to make it easier to know which go togethers, the red go together, blues together, greens together. But there were some blocks that had one edge a different color. Some of the red had green on the sides or blues had red on the side. Those were the ones I had to use the plastic screws and screwdriver to put together._

 _My eyebrows were furrowed in focus, mom sat next to me on the floor, watching me built the toy bridge she had bought._

" _You're a natural at this Naty." She compliments as I attach two blocks, tightening the screw to ensure they'll stick. I shrug, glancing up at her._

" _It's not that hard, I just have to follow the colors." I explain, pressing the two joined bricks on top of a stack of blue ones. I feel a soft click indicating they have locked together._

" _You underestimate yourself." She states, laying back on the floor._

 _As I glance at her, I become aware of the pain on my own back from keeping myself sitting upright for hours on the floor with no support. Laying down is a great idea._

 _I lay down beside her. We stare at the ceiling, I wonder who mom would lay down with before she brought me here. Mom had stopped dating long before I was brought back and she had no pets to hold when she got lonely._

" _Mom?" I ask, she hums in reply, "Where you lonely before I was brought back?"_

 _Her eyes which had closed, open in surprise. I have tendency of surprising her with my questions, but this one seemed to surprise her more than usual. She bites her lip, sitting back up, looking away from me. Had I insulted her?_

" _I'm sorry, it's just… you have no pets." I explain weakly, her back shakes._

 _She's crying, I made her cry. I scramble off the floor and move to her, hands wrapping around her shoulder. Willing her to not cry, I didn't mean to hurt her. Maybe this is what Fury means when he says that I should think before I speak sometimes._

" _Don't cry mom!" I whisper, tightening my hold, shaking her lightly._

 _Desperation crawls all over me, not sure how to comfort her._

" _I'm not crying, I'm laughing sweetie." She reveals, turning around to face me, a wide smile on her lips. My confusion intensifies, she's laughing?_

" _If you really want to know." She continues, hands going under my arms, lifting me into her arms. "I was lonely… but I'm not anymore, I've got you, and I'll always be here for you."_

 _She smiles at me. Before I was brought back, I was scared that I would never find someone who cared for me. I was scared that I was alone. It felt as though everything was out of my control and I couldn't fix it. But then I saw Peggy and despite how scared I was, how confused, I knew I was going to be okay._

 _Peggy is my mom, not just because of the paper work and the identity I have taken. Peggy is my mom because she cares for me and loves me like I am her own. She listens to me and respects what I have to say If I don't agree with a decision, she'll try her best to explain why she thinks it's best, always allowing me to choose in the end. Even if I am a child, I should still have a say on some of the decision made about me. This is something my dad never did and it's what landed me here._

" _I will always have your back too." I promise her._

But you didn't. You left her in a retirement home all alone.

The morning light was blocked off by the curtains, a bit of it escaped from the bottom of the curtain, gently washing over the room. The dried tears on my cheek itched a bit. After the breakdown, I had at the kitchen table, Sam agreed that we should skip the food part of recovery for now. He helped me into his spare bedroom, lowered me down on the bed, the last image I saw before sleep took over was Sam closing the door.

I woke up in the middle of my slumber in a sweat and with my hands shaking. I knew what I needed, my medicine. But I won't do it, I won't take it, not until we are all safe. I need to not give in, I must get use to the gentle shakes my body goes into. After minutes of trying to go back to sleep, I realized I couldn't until my shaking stopped. I was once told that if I tried to breathe and center myself, that the shaking would stop. It is what I did last night, I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of my body working as one. It is a unit, I need to stop fighting it.

The shaking did subside, allowing me to drift into sleep.

Not sure how long I slept for after that, but it was enough for a new day to be born outside. Despite having cried myself to sleep and waking up to memories of my mom, I feel refreshed. The release of emotion I had the day before is what I needed to continue. It is helping me put together a to-do list now that I can think rationally.

There is one thing I need to do first, before anything else: Visit mom.

It is the only thing on my mind as I march into the living room. Sam is one his couch, feet up on the coffee table, chewing on what looks like pancakes with Nutella, the tv in front of him is playing The Office.

"Can we go see mom today?" I ask. Sam jumps up into the air.

"Oh my god!" He shouts, hand clutching the spot where his heart is. He turns back around to look at me, eyes wide, "I know they taught you how to be sly and make as little noise as possible, but you have to make some noise! I just had a heart attack!"

He keeps clutching his chest, a hand covering his eyes. A smile slips on my lips as he lays back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, he still whispering 'oh my god' after every breath. By now I was laughing, he raised an eyebrow.

"Almost killed me and you're laughing, great." He mutters sarcastically, glancing at me, "We'll go see your mom after you eat something. There are some pancakes on the stove, Nutella in the cabinet above."

I turn to the kitchen as he moves upward on the couch. There are three pancakes on the stove, I poke them, still warm it hasn't been long since they were made. I grab a fork and a plate, throwing them on the plate. Tip toeing, I eye the cabinet for the Nutella, which is in the left towards the middle, stretching my arm was far as it can go, I grab it. After my pancakes are more Nutella than pancakes, I move to the couch, making sure to stomp loudly on the way over.

Sam scolds, "Ha ha, very funny, sneaking up on an old man and almost killing him."

"You're not old Sam." I state, rolling my eyes, falling on the couch.

"Older than you." Sam retaliates.

 _I doubt that._

I point to the tv, "Can we watch One Tree Hill?"

Sam looks at me appalled, waiting to see if I was joking. After a moment in which I continue eating and he realizes I'm being serious, he sighs, as he starts searching for it.

"Which season?" He asks finding it.

"Season 4, episode 3." I reply quickly.

"Unbelievable." Sam mutters, pressing play.

* * *

The lady at the front desk is checking mom's papers checking to see if my name is on them. Every moment that passes the butterflies in my stomach gets stronger. The lady starts humming a song as I bite my lip, fighting the urge to run out of here.

"You're her…" The lady starts her sentence.

"Her daughter." I croak, my throat feeling raw.

"I don't see any history of you visiting." The lady comments.

If it is meant to hurt me, it does. It is a jab to my heart and I flinch physically at it. I deserve that one. Sam doesn't seem to think so because he shifts his weight on his feet.

"She's been studying abroad." Sam defends biting back at the lady who pauses slightly in turning a page.

Don't defend me. I haven't treated my mom the way I should, I've left her here alone. But I am trying to do better. If only this lady can find the paper that says I am on her visitation list. There are _other_ ways to get inside. I don't know what it looks like inside beyond the lobby or if the temperature shifts, what it feels like, meaning I can't teleport in. But I… I can try what I did when Bucky was strangling me.

 _No, I can't do that. It isn't right._

The lady seems reluctant to let me in overall, she sighs bringing up another file.

I need to see mom if there is no other way in… I will _convince_ her to let me in.

Even as I come to the resolution, it feels wrong. I shouldn't take away anyone's free will. But this is important, I need to do this, I need to see mom before it's too late. If push comes to shove, I have to do what is necessary.

A nurse wearing a pink cardigan walks into the lobby holding a clipboard that she drops off at the desk.

"What are you looking for Molly?" She asks the lady behind the desk, who I now know is Molly.

"Ah, Ruby, she says she's here for Peggy." _Molly_ whispering leaning into Ruby. Ruby looks over at me, "She says she's her daughter, her name is- "

"Natalia." Ruby finishes her sentence, moving away from Molly who looks stunned.

Ruby walks up to me, reaching out her hand, a caring smile on her lips, "Natalia, hi. I'm Ruby, your mom's nurse."

Instantly, I am grateful that Ruby is my mom's nurse. Her hand is soft, it wraps around mine in a caring touch. Her eyes are warm and always look like they are smiling even if there is no smile on her lips. Everything about Ruby says home and comfort, she comes with an aura of coziness and a sense of being safe. Even if I haven't been present, mom has had Ruby, and that brings me a bit of peace.

Certainly, better than her being left with Molly who gives the Ice Queen a run for her money.

"Can I see my mom?" I ask, voice breaking at the end. Ruby's hand lets go of mine and holds my shoulder. She starts moving me to the door that leads out of the lobby and into the corridor where rooms must be at.

"Of course, you can, she's been asking for you." Ruby informs me. Another stab of pain hits me.

I glance back at Sam, who gives me a tight lip smile. _Good luck_.

I let my eyes find the floor, trying to hide the tears in them, staring at my feet as Ruby leads me to mom.

The corridor isn't too long, but this is just the first of many corridors in the home. By each door there is chair outside, some of the chairs are occupied by nurses, sensing how distraught I am, they give me encouraging smiles as I pass.

"Steve is her most frequent visitor." Ruby whispers, hand rubbing my back, comforting me. Holding my shoulder lightly, tugging me to stop in front of a door that is ajar. I can see her feet at the ends of the bed, covered in a blanket.

"Does she hate me?" I whisper under my breath.

"No!" Ruby objects, pulling my face to look at her, "She loves you so much. She understands. She says you aren't very good at losing people. Goodbyes are not something you've mastered."

The tears I've been holding back escape, I shake my head, if only you knew how much of lousy excuse that is Ruby.

"I think I should have mastered them by now." I whisper regretfully.

Ruby shakes her head, eye bearing into mine reinforcing every word she says, "Don't beat yourself up over how you handle losing. There is nothing wrong with being afraid of losing your mom. It is not an easy thing to come to terms with. But you _haven't_ lost her, she's still here."

I bite my lip, nodding. She is right, mom is still here, just a couple of feet away. I glance back into the room, wiping away my tears. I'm not going to make her wait any longer for me.

"Okay." I say, hand going to the door handle.

"I'll be sitting out here if you need me."

* * *

If I hadn't just entered through the corridor, I would have thought that the room was mom's room from our old house. The house that she bought so I could grow up in a nice house with a backyard for our dogs. It is probably like this to help with her memory.

One of her bedside tables holds all her medicine, the other one full of pictures of our family, pictures of me.

When I approach the bed, she is looking at a show that is playing on tv, head turned away from me. My breath is shallow, my eyes burning with tears.

"Was Molly giving someone at the front door a hard time again, Ruby?" She asks, turning to look at me. She pauses, eyes registering me, but they remain blank.

She doesn't remember me. I waited too long. Tears escape my eyes as I bite my lip to hold in the regret that is eating me alive. I should leave her at peace if it's too late… at least for now, maybe come back another day.

 _This might be my only chance._

I look down at the floor, a soundless sob fleeing my body.

"Natalia?!"

Her cry hits me like a slap in my face, my head snapping upwards, our eyes connecting. Relief fills me as I see her eyes recognizing me, but then I look at the rest of her distraught expression and an unimaginable pain stabs at me. She has been waiting for so long, that she started believing I was never going to come back.

I said I would never leave her and she started thinking it was a lie.

"Mom!" I shout, sobs leaving me as I run to her.

Her arms wrap me up onto her at once. Our sobs joining together, bodies shaking.

"I'm so sorry mommy!" I apologize, burying my face into the crook of her neck.

But she sobs once, clutching me closer, "Don't be baby, you came, you _came_."

* * *

"So, Steve?" I ask, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Mom laughs, shaking her head.

We had recovered from our reunion and now sat on her bed, trying to catch her up on my life. Keeping out the bits of information about Hydra taking over S.H.I.E.L.D. and how I had formed an alliance- if you can call it that- with the Winter Solider, who is Bucky. That all seemed like too much to put on her at once, plus mom can't do anything to help us now. It is best to keep her out of it.

"Naty, I am almost a hundred years old!" She protests through her laughter.

"Yeah, okay mom, but… So is he." I fire back, which only makes her laugh harder. I can't help but smile at hearing her laugh. Never realized how much I missed it until it was gone. "I am just saying, it seems like a great match."

"Enough about my love life, what is yours like?" She asks, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks, even after all these years, Steve still makes her blush.

"Well, it's…" I try to find the right words, being obsessed with a _ghost_ and working the hours I didn't leave much space for a love life. "In the process."

"Process of what?" Mom challenges, I shrug.

"Of existing." I admit, she nods at me.

"Work?" She offers understandingly, I nod. "You are working with Steve, he is a nice man…"

"Mom! You dated him! No!" I protest, she laughs at my expression, putting her hands up in surrender.

As silence surrounds us again, I realize this might be my last chance to ask my mom about Steve and Bucky. I cough awkwardly, shifting my weight a bit.

"Mom, what was Bucky like?" I ask, my question takes her by surprise, but she answers eyeing mine oddly.

"Bucky? As in-" She asks puzzled.

"James Buchanon Barnes." I confirm. She eyes me warily trying to figure out all the possibilities of why I was asking. She eventually nods at me and sighs, reminiscing as she recalls how he was.

"Bucky was charming, a lady's man. Quite serious most of the time, Steve was really the only one that got him to loosen up. Once he was relaxed, you'd find that he had a biting sense of humor, the type everyone loved, although it drove some mad, because he could be so clever with his jokes." She explained I tried to keep my face expressionless as I knew she was analyzing me. "Other than that, he was extremely loyal, he would follow his friends to death if he had to… and he eventually did."

I nod looking away.

"Why do you ask?" She asks me, probing for any reaction.

"We always talk about Steve. I wanted to know about the others." I answer shrugging my shoulders.

Maybe she believed me, or maybe she decided to give up and move on remembering our time might be limited because her hand grasped mine tightly. My eyes found her again, finding she had tears in them.

"Natalia. You were the best decision I ever made. You made my life so much fuller." Her hand caresses my face, I lean into it, "Being your mom has been one of my proudest honors. I love you, don't forget that."

"I love you too mom more than I can explain." I admit, moving forward to hug her.

 _Don't forget that._

But once I let her go, her eyes are blank, she looks confused.

 _No._

"Who are you?" She asks, looking around the room. "Are you a new nurse?"

I shake my head, pushing down the lump in my throat. She rips her hand from my mine, leaving me grasping at her sheets.

"Can you please get my nurse?" She asks looking at me with terror.

I should leave I am scaring her. I nod, my feet moving off the bed, carrying me to the door before I leave, I look back. I can't help but say a proper goodbye, even if she won't understand what it means right now.

"I'll try to come back again. I love you." I open the door, looking into her eyes once more, smiling weakly. "Bye, mom."

She goes to say something but before she can break my heart further I leave the room.

Sam is sitting in the lobby in the chair directly in the line of vision of Molly. He is staring at her intently, they seem to be having a staring match. He breaks his gaze when I walk up to him though, the hardness he was throwing at Molly softening when they land on me.

"How was it?" He asks tentatively, I shrug.

"Better than expected." I admit, reaching down to pick up my bag that I hadn't noticed he'd taken when I was led away by Ruby.

"Ready to go?" He asks standing up, putting a hand on my shoulder. I nod.

"Yeah." I assure him. Despite how our time ended, I feel ready to face whatever is in store for me in the next few hours.

"Okay, let's go." Sam says, moving with me to the door. He pauses once to throw Molly a nasty look before following me out the door.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed! This is my favorite chapter I've written so far and the one I had the most fun writing it. My eventual plan is to move the story for a bit after I finish the Winter Solider portion outside of any of the Marvel movies, so this was a small glimpse at how that is going to be. Hope you enjoyed!_


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